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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27970763">The Price</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GonEwiththeWolveS/pseuds/GonEwiththeWolveS'>GonEwiththeWolveS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, no beta we die like my self-restraint at 4 in the morning, non con is not between jaskier/geralt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:35:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27970763</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GonEwiththeWolveS/pseuds/GonEwiththeWolveS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier tries to strike a deal with a witcher, but gets a little more than he bargained for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Price</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Whelp, I really should be asleep. Oh well</p>
<p>I hope Geralt doesn't come across too controlling or something in this first chapter xD he has reasons for wanting Jaskier to leave, other than just jealously, but he doesn't exactly express himself in the best of ways?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
<p>If you want to read more on the warnings READ the end notes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier followed Geralt into the tavern, almost bouncing off his feet with how much ecstatic energy he had. They’d already booked a room there, in the inn that ran in the rooms upstairs, when they’d arrived at the moderately small village this morning. </p>
<p>They’d been summoned by whispers and talk of a contract on a terrible bestie that dwelled around these parts. Once they’d reached the notice board and found it mysteriously bare, though, they went to make some inquiries, and it was then, to Jaskier’s absolute delight, that they were told another witcher had come just the day before and taken the job for himself. </p>
<p>Geralt had frowned and asked the townie to elaborate, suspicious of the tidings, but the people they talked to did indeed paint a convincing portrait. Two swords, yellow eyes, well crafted armor...</p>
<p>Dusk had fallen since then though, so they were getting a couple of drinks and turning in for the night after.</p>
<p>“Can you believe it, Geralt? Another witcher!” he enthused, throwing it out his arms in an impressively effusive manner. “My, I wonder what he’s like. You never give me a straight answer when I ask you, you know? If you’re all so growly and cantankerous.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Geralt hummed disinterestedly, heading towards the bar.</p>
<p>Jaskier followed at his heels, determined to pour all his excitement onto his dour companion. </p>
<p>“Do you know him? Does every witcher know each other? Is it like a --”</p>
<p>“Two ales please,” Geralt interrupted-- rudely, is he even listening? -- gesturing at the barkeep to bring them over.</p>
<p>“--requirement of the trade to know about all your fellow witcherlings? Do you hold get-togethers at wintertime?”</p>
<p>Geralt continued to ignore him as the man arrived with their tankards and set them down, making the liquid slosh and overspill slightly onto the counter. Geralt grabbed them both and turned around, heading into the center of the tavern to pick out a table. </p>
<p>“--and what about the school, do you have reunions?” he rambled on as they reached an empty one. Geralt set the tankards down and Jaskier glanced to his left inattentively before going to sit, glimpsing the opened window and the street outside. Something else grabbed his attention then, and he gasped dramatically, shooting out his hand to grab onto Geralt’s arm and hold him in place.</p>
<p>“Melitele’s armpit, is that him?” he stage whispered, gazing at the two swords set on the seat across from the dark haired man sitting in the corner booth. He had a long curtain of wavy hair covering his face, casting it in shadow, and he was donning armor as well, though a bit more flashy than Geralt’s. A witcher with a sense of style. Jaskier must absolutely meet this rare creature. </p>
<p>“Come on!” he urged, tugging at Geralt’s arm and sauntering forward.</p>
<p>“Jaskier!” he heard his witcher hiss at him in protest.</p>
<p>Jaskier ignored him and slithered forward between the tables -- Geralt would follow him, he was pretty sure. He made his way to the unknown witcher’s booth, coming to a stop before him and leaning over to gaze at his face. It was angular, with a chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones, lending him a quite devilish charm, if Jaskier did say so himself. The large scar over his left cheek and running up to the corner of his eye contributed all the more to the whole aesthetic.</p>
<p>Jaskier would even be tempted to make a move for the man’s attentions, if his affections weren’t currently being held captive by the other witcher in the room. It was quite unfortunate though -- unrequited love always was. He knew his chances were slim to none with Geralt, but he’d still found himself unable to search for pleasure in replacements for the last couple of months. Which was terribly regrettable and rendering him with the worst case of clue balls he’d ever experienced.</p>
<p>The anchor styled beard made the man look sort of what Jaskier would imagine a pirate to be like, though. A witcher pirate! That could make an amazing jig! He must write it down. Where was his notebook? Oh that was right, he left it in their room. No matter, he’ll make a note once he goes up.</p>
<p>“Hello, dear witcher sir,” he chirped, noting with delight the way the stranger turned to him in surprise. </p>
<p>He sensed a large presence settling behind him and smirked inwardly, knowing exactly who it was -- it’s like he had a sixth sense; a Geralt detection sense.  </p>
<p>“Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing towards the bench with the swords.</p>
<p>The strange handsome witcher did something then that left Jaskier completely astonished -- Jaskier damn near stared at him with mouth agape and all -- his eyes crinkled and he broke into a lopsided grin, more of a smug smirk really, but who cared -- it was a witcher! Capable of easy going smiles! He felt like he just made a ground-breaking discovery. </p>
<p>“Why, of course. You look like a very interesting chap indeed. Is that one of my brethren I see behind you?”</p>
<p>“Ohhh,” Jaskier cooed, glancing back at said witcher. “Do you know each other?”</p>
<p>“I don’t believe we’ve had the honor, no. I am Rahlive,” the witcher introduced himself, bowing his head slightly.</p>
<p>“I am Jaskier, the bard, and this is Geralt of Rivia, my companion,” Jaskier replied, ignoring the low grumble Geralt muttered behind him. </p>
<p>“A witcher as a companion? You must tell me how that arrangement came into being. Surely you have quite the tale to tell.”</p>
<p>Jaskier grinned and ducked into the seat, pushing the swords to the side to make room for Geralt and himself and putting his lute case down beside him.</p>
<p>“Indeed, and I’ve got the songs to show for it. I’m much more interested in the stories you have to tell though, dear witcher.”</p>
<p>Rahlive raised his eyebrows at him, not hiding his amusement.</p>
<p>Jaskier glanced back at his witcher when he kept not moving from his place at the side of the table. Geralt had a frown on his face, and a stance that absolutely screamed ‘I want to be anywhere but here’, so Jaskier employed his own most well rehearsed angry face and furrowed his brow, tilting his head at the bench beside him and giving him a pointed look. </p>
<p>Fortunately, Geralt decided to listen and slid into the seat beside him, setting their tankards down and settling back against the wooden wall. Good. It wouldn’t do if he glared away the first other witcher they’d encountered on their travels together. </p>
<p>“My stories, you say? Hmm, do I get something in return?” Rahlive asked in a teasing tone, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. </p>
<p>Jaskier returned the smirk and slid his tankard forward, offering it as payment to the witcher. Rahlive’s eyes tracked his hand as it pushed the mug on the table, jumping back to his face when he pulled back. He gave him an approving expression and reached for it, raising it up to his lips to take a sip. </p>
<p>“So be it, what do you want to know?”</p>
<p>Jaskier hesitated, pondering on what he should open with. This man was so different from Geralt. He seemed roguish and calculating, with a reckless sort of energy about him.</p>
<p>“Are you a wolf, like Geralt?” Jaskier asked with genuine curiosity. </p>
<p>At his question, Rahlive scoffed and scrunched up his nose, glancing briefly to Jaskier’s right. Jaskier didn’t have to look to know that Geralt was glaring right back with just as much intensity.</p>
<p>“Please, do I strike you as a prickly mule?”</p>
<p>Jaskier winced inwardly and offered a sheepish smile, not being able to avoid a quick glance at Geralt this time.</p>
<p>Yup, he was glaring.</p>
<p>“Where do you hail from then?” Jaskier cut in, hoping to move the conversation forward. </p>
<p>“Stygga.” </p>
<p>Jaskier felt Geralt tense beside him and shot him a confused look. </p>
<p>“Cat,” Geralt muttered in a low tone, almost a snarl. The sound caught Jaskier by surprise, mostly because he wasn’t expecting Geralt to say anything, and he turned to shoot him a look.</p>
<p>Geralt had exchanged his frown for a glower, and was undoubtedly sticking many pointy knives into Rhalive in his head -- he was wearing his ‘I’m feeling stabby’ face.</p>
<p>Rahlive had caught onto it, and was fixing Geralt with an inscrutable look.</p>
<p>Jaskier shifted uncomfortably in his seat and gave Geralt a hard poke in his side, frowning at him. Geralt turned to him and glared back. Jaskier raised his eyebrows — <em>Be nice, </em>they said. Geralt frowned harder, his own drawing together — <em>No,</em> they insisted, with a petulant whine.</p>
<p>Jaskier rolled his eyes and leaned forward over the table, feigning secrecy in an attempt to lighten the mood.</p>
<p>“Ignore him,” he said, directing Rahlive’s attention back to him. “He has a terrible fear of cats. Just the other day I saw him partaking in a staring contest with a puss across the street.”</p>
<p>“Did he win?”</p>
<p>“Not quite,” Jaskier revealed with a playful smile. “The scoundrel absconded with our cornbread.”</p>
<p>“I see.”</p>
<p>“What of you, though? What monsters have you been facing — battling away with your mighty silver sword?” Jaskier inquired, gesturing at the swords resting to his left and pretending to wield one up in the air. </p>
<p>Rahlive shrugged. “I go where the pay is good. Drowners, incubi, thiefs…”</p>
<p>Jaskier frowned, brought up short by the last two examples. He’d learned early on from Geralt that witchers had a code of honor; they tended to avoid contracts on sentient monsters -- the ones capable of reining in their capacity for violence and destruction -- and they never took one on a human. Rahlive wasn’t going back on his word, though. </p>
<p>Jaskier sneaked a glance at Geralt and noticed he didn’t look very surprised either. Huh. Did he get it wrong all along and his witcher was the exception to the rule? Did he get lucky to bump into the honorable and benevolent monster hunter? Or did it have something more to do with the different orders? Geralt had tensed immediately at the mention of the felines, perhaps there was an ulterior story there.</p>
<p>“What other schools are there?” Jaskier asked, attempting to change the subject back into a safer topic. </p>
<p>“Your witcher didn’t tell you that?” Rahlive asked, jerking his head at Geralt.</p>
<p>“Ehh, words aren’t very forte,” Jaskier grimaced, shooting an uncertain look at his witcher. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that Geralt had not, in fact, ever mentioned anything about it. He knew getting more than ten words in a row out of him was like pulling teeth, but still. They were friends, they’d been travelling together from months on months now, and Geralt still pretty much refused to discuss his past. “As I’m sure you can tell.”</p>
<p>Rahlive hummed, taking another sip from the tankard. “Bear, manticore, griffin, viper, crane,” he listed as he put it down.</p>
<p>Jaskier raised his eyebrows in surprise,  intrigued by all the different orders. This was incredibly interesting — a series of possible allegories and metaphors for future ballads flickered through his mind, promising a downpour of new ideas.</p>
<p>“Have you met all of them?”</p>
<p>Rahlived paused, shooting a glance at Geralt.</p>
<p>“Not all. A few griffins, a couple wolves. Although I wouldn’t say we talked, exactly.”</p>
<p>Jaskier frowned in confusion, opening his mouth to ask Rahlive to elaborate, but before he could speak, Geralt shot to his feet. Jaskier faltered, closing his mouth as he looked up and saw the stony expression his witcher was directing onto Rahlive.</p>
<p>“We need to go,” Geralt bit out at the cat witcher, his eyes sparking pools of gold. </p>
<p>“What?” Jaskier blurted, bewildered at the sudden outburst.</p>
<p>“We’re going. Now,” Geralt repeated, turning his glare to him. Anyone else would’ve been cowered by the sheer intensity of that scowl, but Jaskier had developed a tolerance over many months of exposure. He scowled back at Geralt and crossed his arms, intending to stand his ground. </p>
<p>“I have more questions,” he protested, ignoring the way Geralt’s eyes had narrowed at his non-verbal refusal. “And you haven’t even finished your ale.”</p>
<p>“Don’t want to. And you can ask them later,” He refuted, setting his mouth in a hard line. “Let’s go,” he added, enunciating the words separately and firmly. </p>
<p>“I’m staying for a while longer.”</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” Geralt all but snarled.</p>
<p>“We’re just having a friendly chat here, no need to kick up a fuss,” Rahlive piped in, spreading his arms out in a demonstrative manner.</p>
<p>Geralt ignored the witcher, not taking his eyes off Jaskier. Jaskier shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but stood firm. He wasn’t leaving. They were staying in this inn anyway, his room was right upstairs! And Rahlive might not be the nicest fellow, but… he’d been answering Jaskeir questions so far. Which is more than he could say for Geralt. He clammed up worse than an oyster whenever he broached the subject of his training.</p>
<p>What was even the issue here? Geralt just wasn’t acting rationally. </p>
<p>Jaskier gave a minute shake of his head and tightened his arms over his chest. Geralt's eyes hardened and his jaw clenched as he recognized Jaskier’s refusal.</p>
<p>Jaskier felt a bit of doubt and uncertainty poking at his conviction, but before he could say anything Geralt turned around and walked away. Jaskier stared in surprise at his retreating back, apprehensive of having gone too far. Was he truly cross at Jaskier for this? </p>
<p>Every time they got into a ‘fight’, the whole situation was typically forgotten by morning. Surely this would be like that as well, he reassured himself.</p>
<p>Geralt had gone out the front door, though. Not up to their room. Was he leaving without Jaskier? He wouldn’t do that would he? Night had fallen completely by now, and Roach was already settled into the stables. He wouldn’t deny his beloved mare the opportunity to spend the night cozy and warm, at the least. He must just have gone to clear his head -- he was obviously in a foul mood. </p>
<p>He fidgeted nervously in his seat, glancing at Rahlive. He was slouched over the back of his bench, a lazy amused smirk on his face as he regarded the scene. </p>
<p>“Trouble in paradise?” he drawled, turning his smug look to Jaskier.</p>
<p>Jaskier stammered in a flustered manner, feeling his cheeks heat up at the comment’s implication.</p>
<p>“He’s just a little ill-dispositioned tonight,” Jaskier said sheepishly, choosing to ignore the remark. </p>
<p>He cast one last look at the door. It kept swinging open, with new patrons arriving for the night’s entertainment, but Geralt did not reappear. A young man, around Jaskier’s age climbed onto the makeshift stage at the end of the room, a lute case strapped to his back. </p>
<p>Looked like Jaskier wasn’t the only bard around here. Pity, he could have played for a bit of coin after this.</p>
<p>“Anyhow, you were telling me about the witcher houses? Do you have a medallion like Geralt’s?” he asked, peeking at Rahlive’s curiously bare chest. “He always has his on.”</p>
<p>Rahlive reached for his collar, digging a hand under his vest and pulling on something. Silver chains shimmered in the light as he tugged on one, drawing a familiar circular shaped medallion out. </p>
<p>As he held it out to Jaskier in the light though, he could see that instead of the wolf with the snapping jaws he was so used to, it had the profile of a hissing cat etched into the silver. Geralt’s was better looking. </p>
<p>Jaskier hummed in reply, a little unimpressed, and gazed back at Rahlive’s collar, where he’d swear he’d seen more than one chain. </p>
<p>“Do you have more than just the one?” he asked, tilting his head.</p>
<p>“Caught on to that, did you?” Rahlive replied, smirking and reaching back inside his collar. He pulled on the other chains and revealed three more medallions. Jaskier leaned forward, interested by the different etchings. There was a… griffin, a bear and… a wolf.</p>
<p>He creased his brows together as a thought occurred to him, “But… where did you get them? I thought you only received one when you graduated?”</p>
<p>“I guess you could say they’re… prizes.”</p>
<p>Jaskier stared at him, a sick sense of realization stirring in the back of his mind. Rahlive didn’t budge under the scrutiny, his unswayed easy smirk unaffected.</p>
<p>Was he implying he’d… killed the witchers they’d belonged to? </p>
<p>Jaskier felt his eyes widen slightly in unsuppressed shock, swallowing nervously. Was this why Geralt was so intent on leaving? Had he somehow recognized Rahlive or realized who he was?</p>
<p>His eyes darted to the swords laid down on his side of the bench. It wasn’t like Rahlive could do anything here, and why would he anyway? Jaskier was harmless, he’d only been curious about the witcher -- <em>and </em>he had offered him a drink.</p>
<p>He should leave now, though. He’d gotten enough information out of Rahlive, and the conversation was venturing into uncomfortable territory. Contrary to popular belief, he did know when to quit.</p>
<p>The bard at the other end of the room started in on his song and Jaskier startled, having forgotten about him from being focused in thought. He glanced at the minstrel, disapproval painting his features once the surprise wore out. He was doing a terrible rendition of t<em>he three fat gnomes. </em></p>
<p>He turned back to Rahlive, an excuse to take his leave ready on his lips, when another thought sprang to mind. Geralt had taken no measures to hide his dislike of Rahlive, it had been amply clear. He most likely would not approve of the man carrying around a medallion of his order, one that belonged to a fallen brother of his to boot -- probably at Rahlive’s own hands. No, Geralt would want to recover it.</p>
<p>Jaskier looked up at the witcher’s face, studying his expression. He could see no contrition or any kind of hint that he even cared about the overt insinuation.</p>
<p>Perhaps he could convince him to sell the medallion? If he <em>could </em>retrieve it, it would surely be enough for Geralt to forgive him any possible trespasses of trust he might’ve committed tonight.</p>
<p>“Would you be willing to part with one?” he asked tentatively, glancing at the wolf medallion.</p>
<p>“Depends on the incentive,” Rahlive replied, a pondering expression taking hold on his face. He gazed at the playing minstrel and added, “Come. Let’s talk business somewhere more private and… quieter. I have a room here.” </p>
<p>Jaskier shifted anxiously in his seat, a little hesitant to take the witcher up on his offer. He was wary of following Rahlive anywhere but… he really wanted to reclaim that medallion for Geralt, and... they weren’t actually leaving the tavern.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he agreed, a little haltingly.</p>
<p>At his assent, Rahlive reached over the table to retrieve his swords and stepped out of the booth, pivoting and heading towards the bar. Jaskier grabbed his lute case and slid out from the bench as well, jogging up to catch up with the witcher. He had to wriggle around a couple of bar wenches that got in his way and a patron who decided to get up and block the passage, so, when he finally got to Rahlive, the witcher was handing the innkeep a couple of coins and nodding his head to something the man said.</p>
<p>“Ready?” he asked, turning to Jaskier.</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded in affirmative, glancing at the inkeep as he scurried away. He wondered what that had been about. </p>
<p>Rahlive left the bar, heading towards the staircase, and Jaskier followed, looking back at the tavern one last time. Still no Geralt. Hopefully he’d be back by morning.</p>
<p>The stairs were wooden and old, and Jaskier knew he’d be able to hear them creaking loudly if it weren’t for the minstrel's racket.</p>
<p>Once upstairs, Rahlive turned left, the opposite direction of Jaskier and Geralt’s room and headed a few doors down. He stopped near the one by the window, reaching in his pocket for his keys, and Jaskier came to a stop a few feet away, waiting for him to open the door.</p>
<p>A person appeared at the other end of the hall, emerging from the stairs. Jaskier pivoted hopefully, but it was just a bar wench carrying a bucket of hot water for a bath.</p>
<p>“Shall we?” he heard Rahlive ask. </p>
<p>He turned back around to see the witcher by the open door, an expectant expression on his face. </p>
<p>With a sigh, he passed through the open door into Rahlive’s room, setting his lute down by the little dresser inside. He heard the witcher step inside as well, closing the door to the room behind him. </p>
<p>Jaskier turned to him, searching his pockets for his coin bag. He wasn’t exactly overflowing with money right now, but he was willing to make a sacrifice for that medallion. He could make up for the amount spent playing in the market tomorrow if he had to.</p>
<p>He discovered the leather satchel in the left pocket of his breeches, pulling it out and tugging on the knotted strings to open the bag.</p>
<p>“How many orens will you take for it?” Jaskier asked absently, peering inside the satchel to take stock of its contents. “Fifty?”</p>
<p>“Oh,” he heard Rahlive say. His voice had gotten closer. Jaskier glanced up to see that the witcher had covered the distance between them, standing before him with a couple of feet distance. “I had my mind on a different type of currency.”</p>
<p>“What?”Jasker asked blankly, taken aback.</p>
<p>“I was thinking more along the lines of the bargain you have with the wolf,” Rahlive clarified, leering at him.</p>
<p>Jaskier stepped back uncomfortably, drawing his brows together in confusion. The bargain he had with Geralt? What was the man talking about?</p>
<p>“You want me to write a song about you?” he asked, bafflement clear in his tone.</p>
<p>Rahlive snorted and moved forward again, eliminating the distance Jaskier had put between them.</p>
<p>“You can sing all you like, little bird.”</p>
<p>Jaskier felt his eyes widen in realization and trepidation, finally understanding what the witcher was after.</p>
<p>“I think you got the wrong idea,” he said shakily, trying to inch backwards and put more space between them. His back hit the wooden wall behind and he flinched, not expecting the impact. He hadn’t realized he’d backed himself into a corner. “I’m flattered, truly. Don’t take this the wrong way, normally I’d—”</p>
<p>Rahlive interrupted his frenzied explanations, lunging forward and grabbing him roughly by his upper arms. Jaskier yelped and the coin bag fell from his hand. He tried to push him off, kicking out from the wall and lurching to the right. He managed to pivot to the side, but the witcher’s hold on him was strong, and he went attached.</p>
<p>Rahlive dug his fingers into his flesh hard, giving him a wrench and turning him around. Jaskier swivelled on his feet, unable to stop the motion. Once he was steadied on his feet, though, he raised his foot and tried to kick back, hoping to hit the witcher.</p>
<p>His foot collided with something solid, and there was a pained grunt behind him. He thought he managed to hit the man in the crouch, for the hold on him was released. The sudden release when he hadn’t prepared for it made him tumble to the ground, however.</p>
<p>He groaned, having landed badly on his arm, and raised his head up frantically, locating the door. It was closed, but he didn’t think he heard Rahlive lock it. He only needed to reach it, to yell out for help.</p>
<p>As he tried to get up, pushing off the ground with his feet, a hand clamped around his ankle and yanked back. He screamed out, falling back to his knees and trying to waggle his leg free. </p>
<p>He twisted his back, glancing at Rahlive’s predatory expression and used his free foot to kick him in the face.</p>
<p>Rahlive growled and raised his hands to his nose, letting go of his ankle.</p>
<p>Jaskier crawled forward on his hands and knees, trying frantically to get away, but before he could move even four feet forward, Rahlive was on him again, this time seizing him by his calves.</p>
<p>The witcher pulled on his legs and he slid backwards on the floor, rucking up his chemise and scraping the skin of his bare belly on the wooden splinters.</p>
<p>He tried to drag himself forward on his elbows and forearms, but Rahlive crawled on top of him and pinned him in place with crushing force. The weight on top of him compressed his lungs and made it hard to breathe. Jaskier wheezed, choking on his own saliva with the frantic breathing.</p>
<p>He felt a hand wrapping around his side, sliding under him. It reached the front of his pants and pulled down, snapping the strings open.</p>
<p>This was happening. Rahlive was tugging his breeches down and he was going to rape him. Right there on the floor of his room. Fuck.</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to scream out for help, tears burning in his eyes and heart racing in his chest. The yell was cut short by the hand that smacked over his mouth, muffling the last syllable of the plea.</p>
<p>He tried to reach the witcher with his arms, scratching and clawing, but it was hard to do a lot of damage over his clothing.</p>
<p>Rahlive tugged at his smallclothes, ripping the fabric -- Jaskier could hear the tear of the tissue. The cold air of the room kissed his bare skin and Jaskier bit on the hand covering his mouth, feeling satisfaction when he heard Rahlive curse and take it back.</p>
<p>He was opening his mouth to yell out for help again when the witcher shoved his head down in retribution, hitting his face on the floor. Jaskier gasped, tasting the bitter metallic tang of blood in his mouth, and reached for his nose with his hands. </p>
<p>It hurt and it was bleeding, but he didn’t think it was broken.</p>
<p>He felt hands on his ass and Rahlive’s weight lifted momentarily from him. He tried to slither out from under him then, but the witcher had seen that coming. He wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed. </p>
<p>Jaskier gasped, clawing at the hand on his throat as he heard Rahlive working on freeing himself from his breeches. </p>
<p>His lungs were burning when Rahlive finally released him. He slumped forward, disoriented and sore as he sucked air back inside; too out of it to process anything until he felt something hard prod at him and force itself inside, making white hot pain burst behind his eyelids.</p>
<p>He cried out in pain as Rahlive bottomed out, grunting above him. </p>
<p>He had no time to get used to the size of him before he was pulling out and thrusting back in, hard and brutally.</p>
<p>A sob escaped him, wrenched out between his cries, and he choked, trying to breathe past the knot in his throat. Tears were wetting his cheeks, flowing from his eyes and mixing with the blood from his nose, but he had no recollection of when he’d started crying. </p>
<p>Rahlive continued to thrust himself in, chasing his release, but Jaskier had been pulled into a numb state of existence. He still felt the pain, could still feel the burn of Rahlive’s cock as it forced its way inside his ass, could still hear the cries it tore out of his throat, but it was like he existed in a plane above it. Watching everything as it happened from below.</p>
<p>It was that way, numb and detached, that he found himself when Rahlive pulled back and thrusted in for the last time, burrowing himself deep into Jaskier and letting out a hard grunt as he came. He could feel the witcher spill inside him, could feel his seed in his ass when he removed himself and crawled off him.</p>
<p>Jaskier didn’t move right away. He heard Rahlive get to his feet and move across the room, heard him rifling through his things.</p>
<p>He pushed himself to his knees first, grimacing at the pain the movement elicited in his bottom. He looked down and saw his cock, flacid and soft between his legs. He tugged the tatters of his smallclothes up and reached down for his breeches, staggering to his feet to pull them up.</p>
<p>He could feel Rahlive’s seed trickling down inside his ass. </p>
<p>He looked around the room, feeling apathetic and distant. Rahlive was removing his armor and tending to his swords, ignoring his presence in the room. It seemed odd to Jaskier that he was doing it after the fact. </p>
<p>Jaskier stumbled on his feet, uncertain, and turned to the door.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Rahlive instructed as Jaskier neared the hall.</p>
<p>He halted in place, shuffling slowly on his feet to face the witcher.</p>
<p>“I keep my word,” Rahlive said, reaching inside his collar and taking off the wolf medallion. He strode towards Jaskier, holding the chain out in the air and coin pouch he had picked up from the floor. </p>
<p>Jaskier stared at him, almost uncomprehending, before reaching out weakly towards the medallion and his coin bag. He slipped the pouch back into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the cold metal of the chain, taking it from the witcher.</p>
<p>Rahlive turned his back and walked away, returning to his swords.</p>
<p>Jaskier swiped a thumb across the silver etching, feeling the texture of the wolf’s snapping jaws on his skin. He swallowed hard around the knot in his throat and slipped the medallion over his head, letting it settle above his heart under the chemise.</p>
<p>He glanced back at Rahlive, shifting nervously on his feet, but the witcher didn’t seem to care about him anymore.</p>
<p>He pivoted and exited the room, taking his lute case from the dresser he’d left it on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>On the topic of triggers,<br/>There's a pretty descriptive rape scene, with a bit of violence in between. The violence isn't very strong, though.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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